


Reload and Retry

by Leonawriter



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: De-Norted Character(s), Even's not good at the comfort part but he tries, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 05:25:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15405939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonawriter/pseuds/Leonawriter
Summary: Braig wakes up back in Radiant Garden's labs, and his first thought on realising he doesn't have a piece of Xehanort stuck in him anymore is that he needs to go - anywhere but here. Even, however, has other ideas.





	Reload and Retry

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine dragged me into shipping this, so you can read it as pre- or implied-relationship stuff if you want, but it's so subtle I don't know if it counts unless you're looking for it.

Waking up like this was not all that high on his list of ‘things he’d ever want to do again’. 

He was disoriented, he was lightheaded, and when he sat up he felt half like he was going to either be sick or fall back down again - possibly _both_.

The rest of him was stuck remembering exactly what had happened to get him to this point - all right, not  _exactly,_ since there were a fair few bits missing, but pretty damn near enough to have a decent overview of things.

 _After all this time,_  he found himself thinking  woozily, _you’d think I’d have learned not to pick fights with Keyblade wielders._

He snorted, surprising himself with the way that he felt himself slipping into an almost-laugh before he caught himself.

_Ha! As if. The troubles I’ve had with Keyblades, and I still keep throwing myself into those fights._

He brings a hand up to his face-

He brings a _white-gloved_  hand up to his face.

His breath hitches, and he looks up, around - the last time he had been like this, Xehanort had been right there, waiting to reclaim his number two, taking his heart away from him before he could even start to process that he could feel again.

But this time... he can’t see the guy. 

And when he glances over, he catches his reflection in the corner of his eye, and-

The corner of his _brown_  eye.

Not almost glowing amber with Xehanort’s darkness, not even vaguely yellow. Brown. Just... brown.

 _The kids,_  he realises. _They must’ve done something._

That was the only way this was possible.

 _Guess I’ve got no more hoops I’ve gotta jump through, huh?_  The thought filled him with... relief. And yet at the same time, he felt _numb._  Not the same numbness that came with having no heart, because as quickly as hearts grew back, he _knew_  what that felt - or rather, un-felt- like. 

And that was when he realised that he really had to remember to breathe properly, because everything was coming fast and shallow and if he didn’t fix that soon, he’d end up passed out - _again._

He had to get out. He had to - there was _no way_  he was staying here anymore. _As if_ , not a _chance._

Sitting up took effort, and even though he knew the reason now that didn’t stop the room from spinning, which made standing up even harder, and the spacial manipulation that’d been his trademark absolutely out of the question, unless he wanted to spend the next Light knew how long puking his stomach out.

He’s halfway to the door when he’s stopped, and not a finger on him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?”

He laughs it off, but it’s a damn good thing Even can’t see his face, because right now, damn his heart he’s _scared_. Terrified. 

“Taking a look around - I’m allowed to do that, right? It’s been years since I’ve seen this place-”

“Liar,” Even says. 

Braig flinches.

_Because that’s what you are, isn’t it? A liar, a murderer, and an accomplice to theft. Maybe you didn’t start out like that, but it sure was an easy slope to slide down, wasn’t it?_

He doesn’t realise that he hasn’t moved until he feels a hand alight, hesitantly, far more gently than he could have imagined, on his shoulder. 

He waits. Waits for the logic, for the anger, for the accusations. 

They... don’t come.

Even sighs.

“Sora and Lea were coming up with ludicrous suggestions of dying those white streaks in various colours of the rainbow,” he starts saying, and for a good moment Braig is put so off balance by the seeming change of subject that he almost isn’t even hearing what’s being said. He’s dreaming, that’s gotta be it. “I’m still puzzling over how they managed to find everything to turn the area around where Isa woke into a treasure map with his face as the supposed treasure itself, and at this point, I’m afraid to ask. I had... wanted to ensure that your situation would be somewhat calmer. And quieter. I... apologise. For my distraction.”

_Yeah. Definitely dreaming. Though last I knew, Radiant Garden wasn’t dreaming. And I dunno why I’d dream up Even saying about-_

_“..._ what?”

Even cleared his throat, an awkward gesture that Braig was more used to hearing him use on someone _else_  - Ansem, usually, when he’d forgotten something, or if he’d been caught off guard by Ienzo. It’d mostly disappeared as Vexen.

He’d almost forgotten.

“Yes, well. With Xehanort gone for good everything is well on its way to being fixed in his wake, some things are taking longer than others, and I’d thought that I would work on something while you were... ah, resting.”

Which explained all the equipment and computers.

There’s a moment of silence - although now that he knows to listen, he can hear the quiet hum of the equipment, and the far more distant sounds of voices in another room, further off in the castle somewhere.

“Even, look, I...”

A beep cut him off. Even’s hand left Braig’s shoulder, and for a sharp moment he was sure that it was something to do with that experiment he’d only just been saying he’d been working on.

Fixing up the mess he’d helped make came first, after all.

But then, he realises that Even’s footsteps aren’t going further away - that he can feel Even brushing past him, and when Even’s in front and he can see his face, there’s uncertainty and awkwardness and concern and _hope_  written there.

“Ienzo is waiting for us,” he says, holding a vaguely crown shaped device. “More specifically me, but it distinctly implies here that if you are awake, then your presence would hardly be unwelcome.” 

Coming from anyone else, that might’ve sounded cold, but that was Even for you. His thing _was_  ice - literally, while he was Vexen. Xigbar had found himself on the receiving end and wound up frozen into an icicle more times than he could count when the Organisation was still new and it was hardly even an _Organisation_  yet. Vexen’d only had memories to go on at that point, but memory had said that if he’d had a heart he’d be pissed at Braig, so Xigbar’d gone and got the cold shoulder for it.

Looking back, he certainly had deserved that. Most of it, at least. He’s fairly sure there’s a few times that were _entirely_  uncalled for. Or complete accidents.

Now, though? 

“Fine,” he said, waving a hand through the air. “Fine! Just, don’t act all surprised if the same can’t be said for everyone else, got it?”

The fact that Even’s smile looked way too smug...

“You’re hardly the first to say such a thing. You won't be the first to be proven wrong, either.”

None of that should be putting his heart at ease. The voice in the back of his mind that had been telling him for the past - well over ten years, now - that none of this would be possible, that this was all too _easy_ , hadn’t shut up one minute since he’d woken up.

But when Even started walking, Braig started following, and despite the fact that he kept twitching at every damn thing, he couldn’t help _hoping_  that maybe it was going to be that easy.

What was it the kid had said back then?

Something about being a part of something bigger. That was it. Xigbar’d been a part of something ‘bigger’ all right, but he didn’t miss it one bit. 

This, though? _If_ it worked out?

If... well, he’d just have to see, right?


End file.
